


Barbed Wire

by omgbubblesomg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood Loss, Cursed Dean, Cursed Sam, Curses, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Restraints, Tied-Up Dean, Tied-Up Sam, Witch Curses, barbed wire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgbubblesomg/pseuds/omgbubblesomg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're naked with their hands behind their backs and thanks to a witch they're horny as hell, their dicks pointing straight out in front of them. They can't use their hands to jack off, and blood loss is making everything a little bit hazier. All they can do to try and reach orgasm is to rub their aching, stiff cocks together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barbed Wire

“Dean, _stop_.”

"Aah!”

“Stop moving, you’re making it worse.”

“You stop moving!”

“I have! I mean I am! Just, Jesus, will you cut it out? You’re going to bleed out.”

Dean ignored Sam’s warning and jerked again, trying to yank himself free. The barbed wire wrapped around his chest dug into his skin, and fresh blood dribbled down his front. Sam tracked it as it oozed down his brother, over each ab and down his hip bone, leaving a red trail behind it. At least ten of these thin red trails had already marked Dean’s chest, and Sam tried not to think about where each of them was leading. _This will keep you occupied for a while_ , the witch had said before making her escape, and it certainly seemed to be keeping them both distracted.

Dean, like Sam, was on his knees in the witch’s dusty attic. It wasn’t one of those spacious modern attics, it was a horror-movie creepathon with a roof so low that Sam’s hair was getting caught in the ceiling cobwebs. Sturdy wooden support beams were spaced in pairs down the centre. Sam knew they were sturdy because despite Dean’s best efforts, he hadn’t managed to yank himself free of them.

“That witch!” Dean was pulling at his restraints again. “That fucking bitch! That witchy fucking bitch I’ll fucking _kill_  her!”

“Dean, calm down.”

“No, Sam, I am naked and chained up in some crazy witch’s crazy sex dungeon and the only person who knows where I am is two inches from my face so I will not _calm down_  until you figure out a plan to get us out of here!”

Sam didn’t say anything. Dean looked at him suspiciously.

“What?”

“Technically it’s not a dungeon,” Sam finally blurted. Dean glared at him. “And technically you’re not chained up, either.”

“What do you call these, then?” Dean shrugged vehemently, indicating the wire, and a barb pierced one of his shoulders. Sam’s eyes lingered on the taut muscle of Dean’s bicep. He dragged his gaze away.

“That’s barbed wire, Dean, and every time you move you lose more blood so will you just _quit it_! We need to get out of here!” Sam turned his head to the side, trying to look around without moving the wire around his neck, chest and thighs.There was a ring of unlit candles and hanging herbs on the other side of the attic, but nothing useful for escaping, and nothing in reaching distance. Sam turned back in time to see Dean’s glazed over expression, and he suddenly felt more exposed than before. Dean was gazing at him in what could only be described as hunger, and with a jolt Sam realised he was returning the expression.

“So gorgeous, Sammy,” Dean murmured, having apparently forgotten his earlier struggles. They were close enough that Sam could feel Dean’s hot breath against his lips, and the sensation sent a shiver of warmth stealing down Sam’s spine to rest at the base of his cock.

He blushed, hard. “Dean!” he snapped. “Get it together!” 

“Get what together?” Dean asked dazedly, before rolling his body languidly in his restraints. For a moment, Sam thought Dean was trying to break free again, but then he felt _something_ move against his hip. He tried to look down but he was too close to Dean to see much and the wire around his neck stopped him from moving too freely. He could feel the barbs pricking at his skin but they didn’t hurt quit as much as before.

The _something_  moved against his hip again and, realising what it was, Sam felt his blood freeze.

“Dean,” he said slowly, “are you hard right now?”

“Always hard for you, Sammy.” Dean murmured back. Then he licked his lips. Sam watched Dean’s tongue dart across his plump, pink lips, and another jolt of warmth shivered down his spine. He shut his eyes but the image was already in his brain.

“Dean I, uh... I think the witch c-cursed us.”

Dean hummed in approval, and Sam felt the _something_  quiver against his thigh. Now that he knew it was there, Sam felt the curse thrumming in satisfaction. He could almost hear it whispering in his ear.  _That’s the head of your brother’s cock_ , it was saying. _Delight in it_.

Sam groaned and opened his eyes. Dean’s face was only a few inches from his own so he could see the beads of sweat on his brother’s upper lip, and the tiny ring of green that surrounded Dean’s lust-blown pupils.

_Delight in it_ , the curse told him again.

Sam strained forward, ignoring the prickle of warning against his skin. He wanted to lick the water off Dean’s lip. _Delight in it_. He was warm all over, and he knew it would be even better if he could just reach his brother.

Dean was straining toward him as well, and little rivers of blood were etching down his body. Dean was saying his name like a prayer. “Sam,” he moaned, “Sammy. _Aah_.”

The sigh at the end made Sam blink and lean back, because it didn’t sound... right. “Dean?” he whispered.

“S-Sam, Sam, _aah_  Sam,” Dean slurred.

Then Sam noticed the blood on Dean’s neck and chest, and he felt the barbs in his own flesh, and he leaned back against the wooden beam. Dean tried to follow but the wire pulled him up short.

_Shhhh_ , soothed the curse. _Delight, delight_.

Sam felt the pull of the magic but kept his eyes on Dean’s mauled flesh. In blood free patches Dean’s skin was pale.

“Dean you’re, god, you’re going into shock.”

“Want you, Sam,” Dean murmured, continuing to strain forward despite the wire.

“Dean! Snap out of it!” Sam yelled, suddenly desperate.

“So hard, Sam. So hard for you,” Dean was panting, pulling harder, and suddenly Sam realised what he had to do.

“Yeah, Dean,” he whispered, mortified. “I’m hard for you, too.” Dean relaxed back, and Sam tried to catch his breath. The spell was obviously working faster on Dean thanks to the blood loss. Not to mention the rest of his blood being channelled into keeping an erection. The freckles on Dean’s shoulders and cheeks were even more prominent against his pale skin, too.

_So pretty_ , he thought, and then wondered if that was his own thought or the curse. He hadn’t realised that he’d spoken out loud until Dean replied.

“You’re the pretty one, _Samantha_.” Dean chuckled, and Sam saw that he was about to lean forward again.

“Okay,” he agreed quickly, “I’m pretty but you’re gorgeous.” _So fucking gorgeous_. “Let me look at you, yeah, just stay still so I can look at you.” Dean leaned back and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

Dean was rolling his hips again and Sam realised that he was hard. Their cocks bobbed against each other with Dean’s movements. Sam became aware of a _need_  sitting low in his belly, and he tried to ignore it.

“Wanna fuck you,” Dean groaned, and the curse throbbed in pleasure. _Fuck him, fuck him, fuck, so gorgeous_. Sam pushed the thoughts away fiercely. If he wanted to get them both out of here he was going to have to keep a sharp eye against the spell. They couldn’t afford to lose any more blood in a lust blown haze.

“Yeah, Dean, wanna... wanna fuck you, too.” Their cocks were lined up now, so their full lengths could slide together. Sam was pretty sure the slipperiness was from Dean’s blood, and he tried to maintain that image to counteract the pressure from the curse.

_Fuck him, fuck him, lick him open and swallow him whole and fuck him senseless_.

“Wanna fuck you, Dean. Wanna lick you open and fuck you senseless.”

Dean groaned and relaxed back further, his eyes half closed in ecstasy. Sam was pretty sure he would have died from embarrassment without the curse supplying words. He didn’t think he had ever referred to sex as ‘fucking’ before, but he also knew that ‘making love’ wasn’t the right phrase for this situation either.

“Wanna bend you over right now,” Dean moaned, “and slide in deep.”

Half of Sam wanted to gag and the other half wanted to bend over and let him. “Yeah, Dean,” he said, trying to muster up the words to keep Dean relaxed and unmoving. “That sounds... cool.” He grimaced. Clearly, the curse was only good for topping, and Sam was momentarily glad that they were restrained so he wouldn’t have to figure out the logistics of a curse that wanted both of them to fuck the other. At least the dirty talk seemed to work regardless.

“Fuck, Sam,” Dean was saying, almost to himself. Their cocks were rubbing still, but the blood had begun to dry and would soon be sticky. “Gotta come.”

“I know,” Sam replied, suddenly recognising the feeling in his belly. “I gotta come too.”

“Gonna, gonna fuck your mouth,” Dean stammered, “then I-I’m gonna fuck... turn you over and f-fuck your... your ass.” He had started to waver.

“Dean? Dean! Are you okay?”

“Not okay, Sammy,” Dean grinned blearily up at him. “Gotta come.”

“O-okay, Dean. Gonna make you come, okay? Just stay with me, big brother. Stay strong.” Dean hummed, and Sam moved his hips carefully so that his cock was circling Dean’s, keeping their lengths touching the whole way. Sam was amazed that there was any blood left to maintain Dean’s erection, and he started circling faster. The _need_  in the pit of his belly grew more urgent. _This is your brother’s body_ , the curse reminded him. _Delight in it_.

“Gonna use my teeth first,” Sam said. “Gonna bite your lips until their red and bruised.”

“Fuck,” Dean replied breathlessly, gasping.

“Then my tongue. I’ll spread you open and just go to town, Dean. I’ll eat you out better than any girl. You’ll be so wet, fuck.”

Dean had stopped moving, but was chanting _Sam_  and _fuck_  with his eyes closed. Sam tried to increase the friction against his brother’s dick, pressing as far forward as he could. The curse was hissing in triumph as the need in his belly rose.

“Then my hands, Dean. You’ll be so wet already but I’ll put my fingers in your mouth to get them, _ngh_ , even wetter before I slide them inside you. How many do you think you can take, big brother? Three? Four? Maybe... Maybe I’ll get my whole hand inside you, _oh_ , would you like that? Stay with me, Dean, we’re almost... almost there.”

Dean had begun to slip forward again, his eyes shut and head lolling.

“Then I’ll use my cock,” Sam said desperately, trying to keep Dean awake. “I’ll slip my fingers out but before you feel too empty I’ll push right inside you, Dean. Right in. _Oh fuck yeah_ , Dean, as far as I can go. Aah!”

The muscles in Dean’s arms tensed slightly, and Dean whispered his name once as warning before Sam felt hot liquid splashing between them. Dean’s cock spasmed once, slapping Sam’s, and the curse throbbed painfully before Sam was coming, too, mixing his own release with the blood and mess between them.

The wires glowed for a moment and then vanished, and Dean fell forward, unconscious. Trembling, Sam felt for a pulse in his brother’s wrist, since his neck was so cut up, and gasped in relief to feel Dean’s heart pumping below the skin. There were meds in the car and IV supplies at the motel, only 5 minutes away. They were going to need a lot of booze to wipe this memory out but first Sam would get his brother to a safe place to look after him while he searched for the witch.

As he manoeuvred Dean’s body to the car, Sam thanked his lucky stars that the curse had broken after orgasm. He ignored the stray thought that wondered if Dean’s curse had broken too. That was silly, of course Dean would be spell free, since Sam was, right? Just because he had fallen unconscious didn’t mean anything, surely.

Sam sped the whole way home, not taking his eyes off Dean’s reflection in the rear view mirror.

**Author's Note:**

> That moment when you're halfway through writing the fic but already planning the sequel. Pray for Sam.
> 
> Fic inspired by [this](http://cyberdelph.tumblr.com/post/146821277687/hell-and-roses-by-%E5%A3%B1%E5%AE%AE%E5%BC%93%E5%BC%A6%E3%81%8A%E3%81%97%E3%82%89%E3%81%9B) artwork, for [this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/114683.html?thread=42114299#t42114299) prompt:  
> The boys are in a real pickle. Each one is naked with their hands tied behind their backs, and horny as hell, their dicks pointing straight out in front of them. It's some witch's idea of a fun night. They can't use their hands to jack off, nor can they prep and lube each other to have sex. All they can do to try and reach orgasm is rub their aching, stiff cocks together, swiveling their hips to make their hard pricks slap and rub over each other.


End file.
